by Nan Dixon
Carolina’s phone clattered to the table. How could her mother ask this of her? As much as she hated the idea of working for her half sister, this was the best job around and her mother wanted to jeopardize it for a...a souvenir.
She laid her head on her arms. Could she leave the bird on a courtyard table? No. Leaving it there might implicate her. And Abby might be vindictive.
Somehow she had to get it back into Fitzgerald House.
* * *
SAGE COULDN’T PUT it off another day. Kaden had hounded him to come for dinner.
He glanced at his list of accomplishments posted on the fridge.
Walk around condo:
5 mins.
10 mins.
20 mins.
Go outside
Walk down River Street
Get up to Bay Street
Okay, he’d taken the elevator up to Bay, but he’d stumbled around after that.
All this training was preparation for his little stroll to Kaden’s.
After donning his sunglasses, he walked to the elevator by city hall and took it up to the Bay Street level. Next week he’d hopefully add “Climb Steps to Bay” to his Done list.
By the time he got to Broughton, he was sweating. After just two weeks, he was out of shape. He wanted to return to work. He wanted his life back.
He flagged a cab and headed to the address Kaden had given him. Where was this carriage house? Taking a chance, he headed around the B and B and entered a courtyard through the back gate. Now what?
Instead of wasting precious energy wandering, he dialed Kaden. “I’m in a courtyard. Where do I go now?”
Kaden laughed. “Hang on. I’ll be down in...ten minutes. I’ll find you.”
Easy for him to laugh. Laughing hurt Sage’s head and ribs. He looked for a place to rest.
A woman with gorgeous black hair had her head down on her arms. Beyond her was a small bench. He passed behind her, not wanting to disturb her nap.
Shoving her chair back, she slammed it into him. He went down like a roped calf.
“Oh, my God!” the woman cried.
His head rang. Pain stabbed behind his eyes.
“Are you okay?” She snatched his hand, trying to pull him to his feet.
“Wait.” He would fall over or faint if he moved too soon. “Wait.”
She crouched next to him. “I didn’t mean to knock you down.”
“S’okay.” He took deep breaths. “I just need...”
“What? How can I help?”
He tried to get his feet under him but stumbled.
“Let me.” She supported his elbow.
He clawed his way to his feet and finally looked at the woman who’d knocked him down like he was a bowling pin.
She was beautiful. Her dark blue eyes looked almost black and her skin was a luscious golden-olive color. And her hair? Black, curly and long enough to play peekaboo with her breasts. He swiped at his chin to make sure he wasn’t drooling.
“I’m so sorry.” She led him to the chair she’d abandoned. “I wasn’t paying any attention.”
“I thought you were sleeping.” A shard of pain slammed into him. He grasped his head and couldn’t contain the groan.
“You hurt your head.” Her fingers explored his skull.
The bump she was going to find was old, but her touch was cool and soothing.
“Is this the spot?” she asked.
“Yeah, but you didn’t cause it.” He swallowed back the nausea that always accompanied his headaches. “I was hurt a—” he couldn’t remember how long ago he’d been hurt “—while ago. I get headaches.”
“So does my mother.” She kneaded his shoulders, working her fingers up the tendons of his neck. “Does this help?”
“Yes.” He groaned. “That’s...good.”
“I do this for Mamá a couple times a day.” She worked her fingers into his temples.
He didn’t talk, just enjoyed the release of pain.
“Oh, damnation! I need to get back to Mamá.”
He caught her wrist and tugged her so she stood next to him. He squinted up into her face. Her glorious skin was tinged pink. “What’s your name?”
“This is embarrassing. We’re strangers. I shouldn’t have touched you.” She wrung her magical hands. “I’m so sorry. It’s...my mother.”
“No. This is the best I’ve felt since my accident.” He couldn’t tell a stranger he’d been shot. “Thank you.”
“But I knocked you down.” She chewed her bottom lip.
“You didn’t hurt me. Unless you count my being embarrassed because I fell at the feet of the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”
She rolled her eyes. “Right.”
He wasn’t kidding. “Who are you?”
“Carolina.”
“I’m Sage. Sage Cornell.” He took her hand. “Thank you.”
She settled into the chair next to him, leaving her hand in his.
“Are you a guest?” he asked. Please don’t be here on your honeymoon.
“Don’t I wish. I just applied for a job.”
“You live around here?”
“Tybee.” Darkness shadowed her eyes. She pulled her hand away and linked her fingers in her lap. “Are you a guest?”
“Visiting someone I work with. He lives here.”
Her eyebrows crunched together. “A Fitzgerald?”
“No.” He grimaced and the sting of pain reminded him to relax his face. “I don’t know why he’s living here. His fiancée’s last name is Smythe.”
“Oh.” She frowned. “I think Abby’s married to a Smythe.”
“I don’t suppose I could have your phone number.” Way to be confident. “That is, I’d like your phone number.”
“I... I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Between taking care of my mother and searching for a job, I don’t have much time.
“You don’t have time to talk?” He wouldn’t give up.
Her eyes swam with unshed tears. “I might not be a great conversationalist.”
“What can it hurt?” He pulled out his phone, raising his eyebrows. Cornells pushed through to meet their goals. “Like I said, I’m Sage Cornell.”
She sighed. “Carolina. Castillo.”
He wanted to do a fist pump, but that wouldn’t impress her. He handed her his phone, not sure his eyes would let him enter her digits correctly. Damn this injury.
“There.” She handed his phone back to him.
“Let’s try it.” He wasn’t stupid. She could have put in a fake number.
A phone rang in her purse. She pulled it out, shut off the ringer and created a contact. “I really have to get back to my mother.”
“Thank you for helping with my headache.” He grinned. “If I call tonight, would that be too soon?”
“I’d...like that.” She laughed as she walked away.
He waited until she’d stepped into the parking lot, then pumped both fists. “Yes!”
“What was that for?” Kaden’s voice came from behind him.
“I just met the most gorgeous woman.” Sage steadied himself before he pushed up from the table. “And got her number.”
Kaden shook his head. “A guest?”
“Nope. She applied for a job.” And if she got the job, he planned to spend a lot more time with Kaden. Excellent. He’d keep his partner happy—and maybe himself, too.
* * *
I’M A THIEF! What had she been thinking?
Carolina parked in their driveway and wanted to pound her head on the steering wheel.
Not only was she a thief, she’d touched a stranger. Just started rubbing his head. Sage must think she was the stupidest, most forward, craziest woman in the world.
It’s just—he’d been hurting. His head
ache had been so much like her mother’s, she hadn’t been able to stand by and let it eat at him. Even though he’d said it wasn’t her fault, it had been. If she’d paid attention, she wouldn’t have made him fall.
Worst of all, because she’d been so flustered, she’d walked away with the bird. She’d planned to stop in the B and B and return the darn cardinal.
But Sage had started flirting and she’d forgotten. A small zing had her straightening her shoulders. Would he call? Did she want him to? Time was her enemy—she didn’t have any to spare.
Shoving her hair off her face, she caught a whiff of something delicious. She sniffed her hand. Chocolate and citrus. Sage’s scent. Was this his shampoo? She’d had her fingers buried in his thick, gold-streaked brown hair. And his eyes matched his name—a sage-green filled with so much pain she’d needed to ease his distress.
She stared at her mother’s house. It was time to do the same for Mamá.
The door was unlocked so she pushed inside and set her purse on the coffee table. “You forgot to lock the door, Mamá.”
Her mother came out of the dark kitchen and stumbled, grabbing the archway. “What did you bring me?”
Carolina shouldn’t.
“You brought me something, right?” Her mother touched her hand to her temple and closed her eyes. “Nothing?”
Carolina didn’t answer her mother’s question. “Do you have a headache?”
“Don’t worry about me.” Her mother clutched at the doorway, as if she couldn’t stand. “My happiness doesn’t matter. My pain doesn’t matter.”
“Mamá. It does.” Carolina helped her to the sofa. “Would you like to sit outside and watch the sunset?”
“No.” A tear slipped down her mother’s cheek as she curled her legs under her.
She massaged her mother’s shoulders but Mamá pushed her hands away.
“I just wanted a token,” her mother whispered.
Would it hurt to give her the cardinal? Carolina twisted her hands. How many more days did she have with her mother? The headaches were getting worse.
She knelt in front of her mother and dug into her purse. “It was in the front parlor.”
Her mother’s eyes went wide. She turned the bird over. “How much is it worth?”
“Worth?”
“Yes!” Animation filled her mother’s face. “A lot?”
“I don’t think so.” Was that what this was about? Money?
“Maybe I should have it appraised.” Her mother turned the small bird over and over, then hugged it to her chest.
“They wouldn’t leave valuable things just sitting on a windowsill.”
“Of course they would.” Mamá’s eyes narrowed. “They’re greedy and selfish.”
“There were three other birds.”
“Why didn’t you take them all?” Rosa’s voice was as discordant as an out-of-tune piano.
“I couldn’t. I...wasn’t alone that long.”
“Next time.” Mamá admired the bird.
There wouldn’t be a next time. Carolina would ramp up her job search on the island. She wouldn’t steal for her mother again.
CHAPTER FOUR
“MAMÁ, ARE YOU HUNGRY?” Carolina asked two nights later from the kitchen entryway.
Her mother plucked at the pleat in her pants, staring out into the distance.
“Mamá?” Carolina hurried to her side.
She knelt, trying to look her mother in the eye. “Talk to me.”
Mamá stared right through her. No response.
This wasn’t normal. She pulled out her phone. Blank screen. Damn it. She’d forgotten to the charge the battery after Sage had called that afternoon.
“I’ll be right back.” She dashed to her bedroom for her charging cord. On the way back downstairs, she heard a thump. “Mamá?”
Her mother lay facedown on the floor.
“No!” She ran and rolled her mother over.
Rosa shook so hard, her head banged the floor.
Seizure. Dr. Laster said this could happen and had given Carolina some basic first aid.
She pulled a pillow off the sofa and tucked it under her mother’s head. “Mamá, I’m here.”
What else?
Check the time. 7:32.
Stay calm. Carolina’s breaths heaved in and out. She forced them to slow.
Make sure she can breathe. How? She closed her eyes. What had the pamphlet said?
Turn her on her side. Shoving her hands under her mother’s convulsing body, she rolled her. Then readjusted the pillow.
Snatching up her mother’s cell phone, she punched in 9-1-1. “It’s my mother,” she cried, interrupting the operator. “She’s having a seizure.”
“Is she safe?” The woman’s voice was so calm.
“I guess.” How could she be safe if this was happening?
“Is she still seizing?”
“Yes. Maybe not as bad as before. She has brain tumors. Cancer.” The words spilled out of her, along with tears.
“How long has she been seizing?”
Carolina checked the clock: 7:36. “Four or five minutes?”
“Paramedics are on their way.” The operator confirmed the address.
Her mother’s body stopped jerking.
Carolina pulled a throw from the sofa and covered her, and then clasped her mother’s clammy hand. “Mamá, can you hear me?”
Even though her mother’s eyes were open, she didn’t answer.
“Please be all right.” She stroked Mamá’s hair and rested her hand on her mother’s shoulder. “I love you.”
Red and blue emergency lights flashed on the street. “The paramedics are here. I’ll be right back.”
She shoved open the door. “In here.”
Uniformed men and women filled the room.
“Patient’s name?” someone asked.
“Rosa Castillo.”
Carolina was shuttled to the side and a paramedic took her mother’s blood pressure and checked her pupils. Another installed an IV.
“What’s that for?” she asked, biting her lip.
“In case we need to administer medication.” They worked and talked, but not to Carolina. And that was fine. She wanted their full attention on Mamá.
She wrapped her arms around her belly, a chill settling deep in her bones.
Mamá groaned.
“Ma’am?” the female EMT asked. “Can you tell us your name?”
Mamá didn’t answer.
Please be okay. Don’t leave me. Please be okay. I’ll get you anything you want. If I have to steal or go into debt, just don’t leave me. She repeated the mantra over and over.
A gurney clattered up the steps. The paramedics gently lifted Mamá onto the flat surface. With precise movements, they strapped her in place. The gurney clacked as they hoisted it up.
“We’re taking her to Memorial University,” the female paramedic said. “Do you want to ride with her?”
Ride with her. Carolina held her head to keep her thoughts from spinning out of control. If Mamá was going to Savannah, she needed her car. She didn’t have anyone to pick her up or drop her off. “I’ll... I’ll drive.”
The woman EMT touched her arm. “Are you sure you can?”
“I...yes.” She didn’t have a choice. Without her mother, she was alone.
* * *
CAROLINA SET DOWN her overloaded tote in the ER waiting room. She’d grabbed her mother’s wallet, both their cell phones, her charging cord and her mother’s makeup. Mamá didn’t go anywhere without makeup.
Next to a chair, she plugged in her phone. The ER was quiet. Two people sat on the opposite side of the room. One had a bloody bandage around her arm.
She wanted to pace. Wanted to cry. Wanted to see her mother. Was sh
e conscious? What was happening?
She headed back to the receptionist. “I don’t think I told anyone who my mother’s oncologist is. It’s Dr. Laster.”
“Let me update the record.” The woman clacked away at the keyboard. “Patient’s name?”
“Rosa Castillo.”
“And her oncologist is Dr. Laster. Got it.”
Carolina’s stomach dived and banked. “Do you know anything? Can I see my mother?”
“A nurse will call when you can go back.”
“Thank you.” Carolina wanted to look over the woman’s shoulder to see what was in her mother’s record. She’d been waiting at least thirty minutes. What were they doing? She headed back to her chair.
Lord. She was losing it. She’d left her purse, bag and phone just sitting on the table.
She picked up a magazine. Threw it down. Stared at the news playing silently on the flat screen.
A nurse came to the door and called, “Ms. Calarion?”
The two people waved. The man supported the injured woman while the nurse led them away. At least they had each other.
Carolina paced. When Mamá had been diagnosed with breast cancer, they’d never ended up in the ER. Her mother had chosen a lumpectomy and everything had been outpatient. But Carolina had spent months helping her mother through her chemo. Holding her hair back as she’d thrown up.
Mamá had been in remission for so many years. Why now?
Her phone rang and she answered without looking at the screen.
“Hi, Carolina.”
“Sage?”
“I know we just talked this afternoon.” He laughed. “I wanted to hear your voice again. I’m not a stalker. Really.”
Stalker? “I don’t think you’re...” She broke down and sobbed.
“What’s wrong?”
“My...my mother,” she blubbered.
“Take a deep breath.” His voice soothed her like a warm blanket. “Tell me what’s wrong.”
“Mamá had a seizure.” She pressed her lips together so she didn’t cry. “I’m at the hospital. They won’t tell me how she is.”
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t know she was that sick.”
She hadn’t wanted to focus on her mother’s cancer during their conversations over the last two days. “This is her first—I think.”
